spread your wings and fly
by skylands
Summary: "Hello, I'm Effie Trinket. I'm the new escort for District 12. I assume you're Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the 50th Hunger Games? It'll be a pleasure to work together." /the story of our favorite escort


_**spread your wings and fly**_

by rubans

* * *

_the bottom line is that we never fall for the people we're supposed to.  
_

-jodi picoult, my sister's keeper

* * *

On Effie's eighth birthday, she gets her hair dyed for the first time. It's a deep crimson, her mother's favorite color at the time.

She walks into the ballroom, nervously clutching her parents' hands. The room is massive, with walls stretching upwards and then curving into a large dome. A plush red carpet covers the floor, and tables and chairs are dotted here and there, ready for dancing couples to sink into. As Effie takes this all in, her hesitant expression turns slightly smug. Let her friends see this party.

She's taken from table to table, introduced to her guests. Some of them are her friends and their parents. Most of them are business associates of her father.

After some time, her parents abandon the little girl in favor of their guests and drinks. Effie finds a table and settles down; sure someone will come to entertain her in a few minutes. She's still alone when the cake arrives.

She jumps up from her seat, her darkening mood brightened by the prospect of this beautifully crafted cake she gets to cut into. All her friends finally gather around, too, reaching out to pluck flowers made of sugar from the cake.

As an attendant deftly lights the candles, her parents walk over, accompanied by a white haired man. He has a pleasant smile, but it doesn't seem to quite reach his eyes. Her father bends down and squeezes Effie's arm, not too gently. "Hurry up now, the Minister has other appointments." Then, he gives her a tight smile and straightens up.

Biting her lip, she picks up the knife and cuts the cake. Immediately, her father tells the attendant to pick it up and carry it over to the table where he's sitting.

Effie goes back to her chair, which is where she stays for the rest of the evening.

* * *

The next day, she's sitting in front of the television, watching in fascination as a girl pulls out a shiny knife and thrusts it into her partner's back while he's sleeping. "Why did she do that?" Effie asks her mother, who's sitting beside her, watching the screen intently.

"Because she wants to win," her mother replies distractedly. "Sometimes you have to betray people to win."

Effie considers this for a moment. "Why can't they both win?"

"It's rules, darling. Besides, what would be the fun if they both could win?"

"When can I participate in this?"

Prine Trinket tears her eyes away for a moment to look at her daughter's face, to find out if she's joking. "You can't, of course! It's the Hunger Games. It's only for the poor district children!" Effie frowns at this injustice, but goes back to watching television.

* * *

Years pass, each one bringing a new round of tributes for slaughter, a new arena, and more preparations. Effie's fascination with the Games stays the same. Watching twenty-three children die for your entertainment every year becomes a habit in the Capitol. They start seeming less like children and more like animals.

One day, she thinks that she would like to be a stylist. Putting together pretty dresses for the tributes, making them look more presentable for the Capitol. And then the added fame if your tribute wins.

She doesn't get the job, but after the interviews and tests are done, she is pulled aside by one of the Gamemakers. He goes on for a while about her upbeat personality and punctuality before asking her if she would like to be the escort for District 12.

She happily accepts.

* * *

Effie's first visit to District 12 is to pick the tributes for the sixty third Hunger Games. She can barely contain her excitement when she thinks about it. Her affecting the Games in such a big way. Her parents and friends aren't too happy, however, about Effie going off to the poorest district by herself, but she tells herself that she doesn't care.

As soon as she steps down from the train, she wants to jump right back in. District 12 is…grey. Effie Trinket is a person who loves color, who doesn't feel happy unless she's surrounded by a dozen clashing shades.

She tries to shake away the depressing feeling. This is her big, big day.

The mayor, dressed in a white suit greets her and takes her hand, leading her to their Justice Building where they indulge in small talk.

Finally, the time comes for Effie to ascend the stage. She walks forward nervously, clutching the mayor's hand. People have begun to file in; all of them dressed in simple, dull clothes, and all of them looking up to her with unwelcoming, hostile even, looks. Suddenly, they seem a lot less animal and a lot more human.

The mayor ushers her into a small chair, and goes to speak to a Peacekeeper. Apparently, there's been some problem regarding the single victor who hasn't turned up yet. Just as the Peacekeeper is nodding and turning away, there he staggers into view. Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the second Quarter Quell. Anyone can tell that he's dead drunk. Swatting away the mayor's hand, he climbs the short flight of stairs and sinks into the seat next to her.

Finding that she'd rather look at this drunken victor than the gathering masses of District 12, Effie turns towards him and introduces herself in what she hopes is a clipped, official voice. "Hello, I'm Effie Trinket. I'm the new escort for District 12. I assume you're Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the 50th Hunger Games? It'll be a pleasure to work together."

"Pleasure? That's how I can tell it's your first year." Haymitch laughs at his own joke. Effie looks at him blankly for a minute, unsure of how to reply. She's saved by the mayor, Mr. Undresee, who comes and tells her that it's time for the Reaping to begin.

Effie gets up nervously and watches the mayor as he steps up to the podium. He describes the destruction of North America, the rising of Panem, the Dark Days, and finally, The Treaty of Treason because of which the Hunger Games were born. Then, he reads out the names of the past victors. There are two of them, and out of those, only one is alive. When his name is called, Haymitch Abernathy raises his arm to wave at the crowd as they applaud.

Having finished his speech, the mayor steps back and gestures to Effie. "Over to you."

She bites her lip and steps up to the podium, trying to maintain a cheerful attitude. "Happy Hunger Games!" She hears herself say. Then she adds, "and may the odds be _ever _in your favor!" She smiles. She likes this line, it sounds clever. Like something Caesar Flickerman would say. She continues, introducing herself and talking about how excited she is to be the new escort for District 12.

Finally, it's time to draw the slip of paper. Effie steps away from the podium and walks–more confidently now–towards the two glass bowls.

"Ladies first," she says cheerfully and puts her hand into one of the bowls. She takes her time, her hand clawing around the bowl. The crowd has stopped murmuring and their eyes are fixated on her.

Finally, she chooses a slip and takes it out. There, written on white paper are the words–

"Libra Cronin!"

Effie hears a gasp from the section of children to her right. A tall, thin girl steps forward, her grey eyes filled with dread. She silently walks up till the stage and takes her place by Effie's side. No one cries for her. Effie gives her a bright smile, trying her best to look welcoming. "Everyone, please clap for the female tribute from District Twelve!" She cries. There are a few claps, and people peer at the girl interestedly. Effie supposes it's because they think she has a chance at winning. She beams at this thought.

"And now for our male tribute," she announces, once again putting her hand into the second glass bowl, making it circle dramatically. She catches a slip and pulls it out, unfolding it. "The male tribute for this year's Hunger Games is… James Greenlaw!"

There's some commotion at her left, and she catches sight of a woman falling to the ground. The boy himself steps onto the stage, shock and terror visible on his face. He's small and looks barely twelve years old.

Effie smiles at the boy and turns to the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the tributes of District 12!" Both the tributes shake each other's hands, and there's some half-hearted clapping. Then, the Peacekeepers come and whisk them away. The mayor gets up, a sad expression on his face, and gestures to Effie to follow him.

She glances at the boy's mother, now sobbing hysterically, and walks after the mayor.

* * *

Haymitch is still not there.

Effie checks her watch again. It's been two hours since they left the station. The little blond boy, James, is not even attempting to eat and keeps crying into his food. On the contrary, the girl is shoving food into her mouth like there's no tomorrow. And maybe for her, there isn't.

She's very close to losing her patience with both the tributes. Here they are, in the perfect position to achieve fame and money, to shine and make their faces known, and they can't stop eating or crying. She impatiently checks her watch again, wondering what's talking Haymitch so long. Effie wants to start deciding their game plan. If the tributes won on her first time as an escort, she would be praised for sure.

With a huff, she gets up. If Haymitch won't come to her, she'll have to go to him. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she tells the two children and walks out of the compartment. The two doors nearest the dining compartment are opposite to each other, the tributes'. The next one is hers, so the one after that should be Haymitch's. She knocks on the door loudly.

"Haymitch, we're waiting for you. What's taking you so long?" There's no answer. She waits for two minutes before trying the doorknob and discovers that it's open. She turns it and pushes the door open with a grunt.

There, lying passed out on his bed is Haymitch.

* * *

"So would you rather coach the children separately for the interviews or would you like to do them together?" he asks casually.

It's midnight, and they're sitting on the couch, Effie still murmuring about the District 12 tributes' training scores in distress. They're so low. A two for the boy and a five for the girl. She hadn't expected them to be anything below a seven, at least. She knew that District 12 wasn't exactly the top district in the Hunger Games, what with having only two victors, but she'd hoped that her being there would make a difference. She was starting to look at the possibility of losing for the first time.

She looks at Haymitch. He has a half-amused expression on his face, but he's looking at her kindly. "Let's do them together," she replies.

The next morning she's regretting her decision. Haymitch's idea of how coaching for an interview should be is highly different from hers. She wants to show the tributes how to walk with their back straight and talk like educated people. He wants to show them how to play up their personality, which is slightly difficult, since they don't seem to have a very distinctive one.

"No, no, no, you're doing it all wrong!" She exclaims. Libra is sashaying down the room, both hands clutching her skirt, winking at the walls.

"How am I doing it wrong? Haymitch told me to be seductive," the girl snaps with a scowl on her face, the annoyance in her voice clear.

"Yeah, she's doing great," Haymitch offers in a slurred voice. He's standing in a corner of the room, sipping from a bottle which undoubtedly contains some form of alcohol.

Effie looks at him nastily. Turning to Libra, she plasters a smile on her face and says, "Don't clutch your skirt like that. Hold it in a more ladylike way. And if you wink so much, people will think you have a twitch in your eye. Smiling is much better. And remember, you'll be wearing heels, so walking like that is not an option either."

Libra throws her hands up in the air. "Why don't you both decide what I should do first and then attempt to teach me? It's not like it matters, since I'm going to die anyway whether I smile or wink or at the audience!" With that, she strides out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Effie clutches the handles of her chair, her eyes fixated on the television screen.

The twenty-four tributes stand in a circle around the Cornucopia. The ground underneath them is made of sandy soil, and the area behind them is ringed with palm trees. The supplies are piled up next to the Cornucopia in the shape of a pyramid.

The gong sounds. There's a mad rush for the Cornucopia. The Career tributes reach there first, picking up the sharp swords of various sizes and eyeing them. One girl takes two daggers, a sharp glint in her eye. The camera focuses on her as she throws one at a nearby tribute, who's attempting to take a sword from the pyramid. Effie watches as he falls to the ground, his blood splattering on the sand. Normally, she would be cheering the girl on, but instead, Effie's dreading whom her next victim will be.

The camera shifts to another boy who's slicing a boy's neck with his sword. There's so much blood, it takes her a moment to recognize James.

"I thought you told them to get away from the Cornucopia!" she screams at Haymitch.

He shrugs. "I did. I guess the boy thought he knew better." He reaches over to the bottle by his side and opens it.

Disgusted, Effie turns back to the screen. The camera is back to Renne, the girl with the daggers. She's running through the trees, chasing someone. Her heart skips a beat as Effie realizes that the girl being chased is none other that Libra. Renne throws a dagger, but misses. She gives up and turns back towards the bloodbath.

Effie's fists unclench, and she sighs with relief.

She's unprepared when the cameras show Libra crash into a boy who, with a crazed look in his eyes, drives a knife through her heart.

* * *

The mayor is looking uncharacteristically serious although that might just be the face he reserves for Capitol officials. Haymitch doesn't look too bothered about the meeting, and as he catches her gaze, he winks.

Effie shoots him a worried look and turns her eyes to the floor. The Reaping for the sixty-seventh Huger Games is going to start in an hour, and she can't imagine what's so important that she has to be here in the basement of the Justice Building instead of on the ground floor in her room, getting her make-up done.

Her musings are interrupted as a Peacekeeper marches into the room and clears his throat. "I have been instructed to tell you that no matter what the name on the slip drawn says, you will announce Mark Hellings as the male District 12 tribute," he says in a gravelly voice.

Effie gasps and immediately turns towards Haymitch. His eyebrows are raised but otherwise, he looks unsurprised. The mayor has a distressed expression on his face as he gestures to the Peacekeeper to leave. Effie immediately breaks out in protest. "Why on Earth do they want me to do that?"

The mayor's eyes are downcast as he answers. "The boy…his father's been creating trouble in the mines. Stirring up talks of rebellion. The Capitol wanted to show him who's in charge, and this is their way of doing it."

Before Effie can reply, Haymitch roughly grabs her by the arm and leads her outside. "It's not worth it. Just do what they say." Then, he walks away, his bitter laugh echoing around the hall.

* * *

Her eyes keep flitting from the mayor to the empty chair next to her. There used to be a time when she paid rapt attention to the mayor, nodding her head thoughtfully, no matter how many times she'd heard his speech. Now, she just wants to get the reaping over and done with and enjoy the brief time she'll get with Haymitch before facing another pair of children who'll be dead in two weeks.

There's a commotion as he appears, stumbling towards the stage. There's no telling how drunk he is. As she sees him, her entire body tingles, and she has to bite her lower lip to keep a wide smile from spreading on her face. He envelopes her in a very _public _hug, and she has to stop from growling as her wig shifts. "Nice color. I'd like to borrow your hair dye sometime, Effie. You think pink would suit me?" he whispers into her ear and then walks away.

She smiles. It almost makes up for the spoilt hairdo.

Effie starts with the usual speech about how excited and honored she is to be there again and then steps towards the glass bowls containing the names. She claws around the glass bowl, touching one slip and then another. Finally, she pulls one out and unrolls it.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

* * *

With the Capitol keeping such a close watch on Katniss and Peeta, they can't afford to be caught off guard. Planning strategies when a Capitol attendant stumbles upon them. Breakfast together when Peeta catches them coming out of a room together in the morning. He has his suspicions, but he doesn't say anything to them and nor do they.

The Victory Tour is a curse, but it's also a blessing. For the first time, Haymitch and Effie are together for more than a few weeks every year, and it feels so good. That way, Effie can almost deal with the rest of it.

She's sitting alone in her apartment in the Capitol, watching the audience ooh and aah over Katniss's wedding dresses. Her expression is smug, and she's already running through everything she'll tell people about how the most important person was involved. That's when President Snow comes and announces the theme for the Quarter Quell. It takes a moment for her to process what he's saying, but when she does, her heart stops. Because there is now a fifty percent chance that Haymitch is going back into the arena, back to the Hunger Games. And if he does, it will all be her fault.

Now, Effie can finally imagine how a tribute's family feels when their child gets reaped.

The day of the reaping is hot and sunny, and Effie doesn't even try to keep up her chirpy act. There are only two roped off areas. Katniss stands in one, her head held high. The other holds Haymitch and Peeta. Effie feels a twinge of sadness for the two lovers, which is immediately overtaken by regret for her and Haymitch. She dips her hand in the bowl, searching for the slip, which she knows contains Katniss's name. When it's the boys' turn, she takes a deep breath before going in, praying. _Not Haymitch, not Haymitch, please don't let it be Haymitch._

But it's Haymitch. The world seems to be spinning before her eyes, and she says the name with a strangled gasp. Then, Peeta is walking towards the stage, and he gives her a small smile. She returns it with a grateful look.

* * *

She missed the sun, stuck in a cold cellar under the Capitol.

Her first meeting with Haymitch after the war is over is less than pleasant. She yells at him for lying to her and he ignores her and yells at Coin, begging her to keep Effie alive. The new president is a tough woman, with an unbroken sheet of grey hair and grey eyes, which match the now vacant look in Effie's. She's told that she should be happy since she escaped the Capitol's worst, her father being an influential man, but the rebels don't have a very strong base for executing her either.

The next time they meet is after Paylor is elected the new president. Her anger is still present, buried somewhere underneath the exhaustion and sadness, but she's accepted that he's the one she wants. And to have him, she needs to forgive him, for which the first step is listening to him.

He gives her a hesitant smile, and she returns it. An actual smile, a free smile. A smile which hasn't been painted onto her face by the Capitol.

A hopeful smile.

* * *

**a/n:** this is for my lovely, lovely twinnie tate who is a million different kinds of amazing and this isn't as awesome as a sparkler or the sirie bUT PLEASE ACCEPT MY HUMBLE DEDICATION OKTHNX. also to thank her for listening to me rant about my forced marriage and how i should really be studying and this story and phoenix and for creating the chipmunk face aND OKAY I HOPE YOU LIKED IT TWINNIE ILY

also many thanks to ray for fixing up my grammar.


End file.
